


The Voices In My Head

by JedimasterMegan



Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Giveaway fic, Post-Order 66, ahsoka is the other person mentioned at the end in case you couldn't tell, i made a number up for boil just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JedimasterMegan/pseuds/JedimasterMegan
Summary: CC-2224 serves the Empire to the best of his ability. Cody remembers a time when he served with someone else
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	The Voices In My Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [letitrainathousandflames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitrainathousandflames/gifts).



> A giveaway fic won by letitrainathousandflames (also under the same name on tumblr!)
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this one :)

CC-2224 blinks. The lights keep flashing, sending everything into darkness before flickering back on. Off, on, dark, light. The alarm finally kicks in, bathing the bridge in red light. The lights still keep flashing. It makes his head hurt.

His head always hurts.

He rushes through the halls. The klaxon blares so loud he can feel the vibrations in his feet where they touch the floor. Their ship is being boarded. It’s his duty to protect it. His duty to the Empire.

( _You swore an oath to the Republic,_ his mind whispers.)

_Good soldiers follow orders._

He blinks again. Damn headache. He needs to focus.

He reaches the air lock. There’s already thumping coming from the other side. He needs to shut it down. Then the boarders will have to find another way in.

He sees the control lever out of the corner of his eye. He yanks on it.

Part of it breaks off in his hand.

_Blast_.

(Someone else used to say that. All he can remember is copper hair and blue-grey eyes and _“Thank you,_ _Cody.”)_

The pounding in his head sounds like blaster fire.

No way to shut off the air lock now. He looks down at the broken piece in his hand. It has a familiar weight. Reminds him of–

(“I think you’ll be needing this.”)

Nothing. It reminds him of nothing.

His head hurts. Why does his head hurt so much? It doesn’t matter. He needs to protect the ship.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

He rushes back through the halls and up to the bridge.

The sirens haven’t stopped. His ears keep ringing, his helmet’s filters are _shit_. He misses his old armor.

He reaches the bridge. Everyone else on the ship (four, there’s _four_ of them against who knows how many boarders) is already there. He locks the door.

He turns to CT-1109 and the two behind him.

( _His men_ , a little voice in the back of his head says. _Boil, Crys, Wooley. His men, his men, his men, the last of his men._ )

“You three,” he orders. “Take up positions by the door.”

CT-1109 nods. “Yes, sir.”

They get halfway there before the door blows off its hinges. It hits them before they can get out of the way.

Something in him panics at the sight of their bodies laying on the floor.

He watches the entrance to the bridge, fingers tensed above the trigger on his gun. No one enters. He steps out a little further.

No one’s there.

He glances back at his men. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s on the floor next to them, taking off their helmets and checking for pulses. He feels a faint heartbeat coming from each one.

Alive. They’re alive. Just barely.

(“You’re a good man, Cody. The men are lucky to have you.”)

It feels like a canon is going off by his head. He takes off his own helmet and presses his palms to his eyes.

_Not protocol,_ his mind whispers. _Good soldiers follow orders._

(He’s not a good soldier.)

He thinks he hears something behind him. A rustle of movement, a gasp, the click of a gun.

_First rule of combat: never let your guard down._

(“I trust you with my life, Commander.”)

Kriffing headache kept getting stronger–

Someone comes up behind him. He reaches for his gun, but it’s too late.

All he sees is a flash of blue, then the world goes black.

* * *

Cody’s eyes fly open.

He sits up slowly. He doesn’t know where he is. Take stock of your surroundings, that’s what they always taught them.

There’s something beeping off to the side. It’s connected to his finger. He pulls it off.

( _Stupid_ , he thinks. _What would the medics say?_ )

Everything is white. Almost too white. It reminds him of Kamino. He’s in a med-bay. Why is he in a med-bay? The last thing he remembered was his men–

_His men._

_Where are his men?_

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed. (He wasn’t wearing his armor anymore. That was good, he _hated_ that armor.) His bare feet touch the cold floor and he’s so weak he feels like he’s going to collapse.

He doesn’t. He pushes himself up with the help of the bed. He needs to find his men. Boil, Crys, Wooley. They’re the last of his men, he’s _supposed_ to _protect_ them–

There’s a window on one wall.

His limbs are like _jelly_.

It’s closer than the door.

He stumbles— _kriff_ , why are his legs so _weak_ , he’s _better_ than this, _damnit_ — over to it and hangs on to the small ledge to keep himself up. Through the window he can see into the next room.

There’s three beds, each with a body on it. Their faces are the same. His men.

(Dead, dead, he thinks they’re _dead._ )

Their chests rise and fall in deep breaths that only come from sleep and the monitors beat at a steady pace next to each one of them.

He rests his forehead against the glass and closes his eyes. Tries to relax his clenched fists.

Alive. His men are _alive_. Boil, Crys, Wooley, all of them. He didn’t fail them, they’re still _safe_ and _alive_.

He hears the door open.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

He grabs a sharp tool off the table nearest to him and spins around, ignoring the way his muscles, _damn his body_ , all quiver at the effort, to face the intruder.

His eyes widen.

_No._

_It can’t be._

He grips the tool so hard his hand hurts. His arm starts shaking and he drops it. It clatters against the floor.

_It’s not him,_ he tells himself. _He isn’t there._ It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. He must be hallucinating, he _knew_ he should have gotten that headache checked out.

Wait.

The headache.

It’s gone. The headache is _gone_ , it’s been so long since his head hasn’t hurt–

And then he remembers. He remembers _everything_.

_“Commander Cody. The time has come.”_

_Good soldiers follow orders._

_“Come on, sir, when have I ever let you down?”_

_Execute–_

_“Blast him!”_

_Good soldiers follow orders._

_–Order 66._

_“Yes, my lord.”_

_Good soldiers follow orders._

“Cody–”

_Good soldiers follow orders._

“–dy, listen to me.”

_Good soldiers follow orders._

“Commander Cody!”

Cody freezes. He hasn’t been commander since… since the end of the war.

“You back with me now?”

He looks up at the sound of a brother’s voice. “R- Rex?” His body gives out underneath him.

“Hey, hey, easy there, _vod_ ,” Rex says, gently lowering him to the ground.

Cody clutches onto him tighter. “Rex, is- is it really you?”

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m here.” Rex pulls him close and Cody clings to his shoulders, burying his head in the soft fabric (blue fabric, _501st blue_ ) of Rex’s shirt.

“I killed him,” he says, closing his eyes against the flashes of memories. He thinks there’s tears streaming down his face. “I gave the order. I killed him.”

“I know,” Rex says, patting his back. “I know.”

There’s no judgement in his voice when he says that. Cody almost wishes there was. He deserves it.

“It’s not your fault,” Rex whispers against his ear. “None of it was. You did the best you could.”

Cody just hugs him tight and sobs harder.

It’s a while before he stops.

(The memories don’t.)

“Where are we?” he asks, once his chest has stopped heaving and he thinks he can trust his voice.

“A med-station,” Rex replies. He goes to sit on the bed. Cody follows.

“Where?” he asks again.

Rex looks at him. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s need to know.” He smiles softly and stands up. He looks more serious now, and when he crosses his arms, Cody feels like he should be standing at attention.

“We’re starting a rebellion.”

He doesn’t elaborate on who else is included in the “we,” but Cody knows, there’s only one person it could be. He saw her name on the list but as soon as he saw his brother listed next to her, he _knew_ , Cody _knows_ his brother, he would never be capable of doing it.

(He thought _he_ wasn’t capable of it either. Guess he was wrong.)

Besides. Only those two together would be crazy enough to start a damn _rebellion_ after two years— it was _two whole kriffing years_ — of this shitshow the galaxy brought upon itself–

He looks up at Rex.

_“I know you’ll always have my back, Commander.”_

“So. Are you in?”

_“We’re with you, General.”_

Rex holds out his hand.

_“When have I ever let you down?”_

Cody takes it. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at jedi-master-megan on tumblr if you want to say hi!


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